Because I have every intention of grounding her through a kiss, followed by laying her on the bed.
11
HADLEY
Why am I doing this again?
I am voluntarily surrendering to him because this man knows how to curse me with a stare, and it’s not even a vile curse. Instead, he is shaking me and waking up every dormant feeling that I have for him.
I changed into expensive lingerie because I like teasing him. I wanted him to suffer, look but not touch. We all have a weakness, and mine is the way his eyes fill with a warm possession when I’m the object he stares at.
Which is why I am standing right here locked in a lip tango with my husband.
Connor’s lips firmly kiss mine, with his tongue requesting entry, and I eagerly give. We always want what we probably shouldn’t have. Except, I never say no to ice cream, so the same rule can apply to the only man who kisses me with electricity.
Because Connor’s kisses seep through my veins and sink me down, and my body comes alive when his lips are on mine, something I hate to admit.
My body curves into his as his arm tightens around my waist and his kiss deepens. We sizzle together, and maybe through the years, we’ve both feared that.
We kissed for the camera, we made one another come, but an intimate kiss like this? It’s our first in this chapter of our lives, and it’s from our own initiative.
I murmur a sound of enjoyment as my eyes remain closed so I can drown in this kiss and in his arms, ignoring any warning flare looming in the back of my head. If I’m giving into this moment, then I’m going all in.
Even when he begins to walk us back toward the bed, I’m lost in a spellbinding moment. That is until his mouth leaves my lips and skims down my throat, and his free hand spreads along the back of my neck like I’m his to claim.
“You drive me crazy,” he hums as he nuzzles into my neck, creating a sensitive wave that cascades down to my nipples.
“My life’s mission,” I whisper in retort, but really, I should scream ditto.
He growls and hoists me up, my legs naturally wrapping around his waist, and a sound escapes me because I feel he’s more than ready.
A flimsy strap falls off my shoulder, and it only encourages Connor to trail his mouth along my collarbone, causing my head to fall back and my thighs to bind tighter around him.
It’s a worthless move on my part, because a few seconds later, he plops me onto the bed and hovers over me with his eyes hungry and my heart growing heavy—the good kind.
I watch as Connor peels his t-shirt up, and I bite my lip from the show. There is a reason why women peg him as the hockey player with looks. I can’t decide if I should focus on his arms or chest; it’s a hard choice, so I choose the dangerous one and lock my gaze with his smoldering eyes.
The corner of his mouth tugs when he combs a few strands of hair behind my ear. I hate when he’s sweet like that—no, I don’t, but I should. I’m a woman who has self-respect, I remember what he did, but I can’t seem to shake that there is a reason, and we’re no longer as young and foolish. Maybe he was meant for a second…
I shake my head. “This is just sex,” I lie.
He smirks. “Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself.”
“Can you just, I don’t know, step up your cocky ego factor? You seem to have left it at the door, and it’s confusing, distracting, kind of infuriating,” I begin to mumble and pout.
He pauses as he holds his weight over me. His head falls forward when he laughs, then he glances up to study my face. “You want me to be an asshole during sex?”
“No,” I stutter. “Just… you’re sending mixed messages. I don’t know if this…”
Something sparks inside of him, and in a swift move, he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. “This is me about to take you with a ring on your finger that confirms you are my wife, so I intend to fuck you the way a wife deserves to be fucked. Is that clear enough for you?”
I’m speechless because he has determination in his tone to prove me wrong from whatever doubt is floating in my head.
Gathering my bearings, I remain firm. “It’s just sex.”
He lets go of my wrists and sighs. “Fine. The choice is yours; you lead, or you let me prove you wrong.”
My pussy squeezes from the thought of what that could entail, but emotionally, I’m not sure I’m ready. “On your back,” I demand. The safer option, that’s what I choose.
